


Missed Deadlines

by aerowyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Literary Agent!Derek, M/M, writer!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerowyn/pseuds/aerowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles never imagined he’d be 21 and have a three book deal with a decently respected science fiction publisher. He's been trying to find a way to balance writing the second book in the series with finishing his junior year of college. He was doing pretty well, if he did say so himself.</p><p>Enter Derek Hale, new junior agent at the Hale and Argent Agency. He’s the brooding, grumpy, extremely sexy literary agent who has been given Stiles’ option because he’s been late on a few deadlines. </p><p>Ok, maybe more than just a few...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missed Deadlines

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Teen Wolf Big Bang](http://teenwolf-bb.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> You must check out the awesome [webpage and art](http://mithborien.dreamwidth.org/122798.html) created for Stiles' books by the lovely [mithborien](http://mithborien.dreamwidth.org/)!
> 
>  
> 
> Come [say hi on tumblr](http://unashamed-fangirl.tumblr.com/)! 

Stiles stared at the blinking cursor on his screen. He started tapping his thumb on his desk to the same beat, adding his other thumb as a counter beat. 

By the time Scott walked in the door, he had a full concert with pencils and whistling and stomps.

“Getting a lot of writing done, I see.” Scott smirked as he walked over to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing two beers. “Want one?” 

Stiles shook his head. “Nah, I need to at least get something written tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” Scott put the other beer back, twisting off the cap of the one still in his hand. “So, have you gotten anything written today? Weren’t your next few chapters due, like, yesterday?” Scott walked across the living room, falling back on the couch and turning on the TV.

Stiles turned around in his chair to face Scott. “Yes, they were. And I did get about three chapters written today, but not in the Cariggan Series. I started this new series about these awesome red creatures from a planet where the seas are green and they only talk in four word sentences. It’s amazing!” Scott stares at him unimpressed, turning back to the TV. “Come on, you know how I get with a new idea. I just couldn’t get them out of my head. Every time I try to write in _Smoldering Moon_ , I’m blocked. But I have so many ideas for _Scarlet Descent_ , which is what I’ve named the new book, that I could probably write a whole new series before I finish Cariggan.”

Scott sighed, turning away from an explosion on the screen to stare pointedly at Stiles. “Listen. I know how your brain works. But unfortunately, I don’t think your agent will see it that way. They signed on for three Cariggan novels. You know you’ve got to finish the second one before they’ll publish any of them. Please don’t get bored now. I don’t think they’ll be as understanding as Finstock used to be in high school with your essay tests.”

“Hey, I still stand behind my circumcision essay.” 

Scott laughed. “Dude, it was Economics!”

“Hey, it could have an effect on the selling rate of… something.” Stiles laughed with Scott. “I guess it really didn’t. He still gave me a B, though, so I call it a win!” Stiles turned back to his computer, saving his non progress and then hibernating his computer. “I’m going for a run. Maybe it will get my creative juices flowing.” Stiles stood up from the chair, twisting the kinks from his back. “Wanna come?”

Scott shook his head. “No, thanks, Lydia and I are getting dinner later and I still need to do my anatomy homework.”

Stiles nodded and headed back to his room to grab his shoes and change into track pants. 

*

Running wasn’t necessarily Stiles’ favorite activity, but it helped clear his head. The burn in his chest and muscles, the calming pattern of his deep breaths in and out. 

Stiles turned the corner, looping around in order to make his way back to the apartment. He’d been running for a few miles and was still thinking about nothing but the Aylanian clan. He knew he needed to finish the Cariggan series, he really did. But he knew how he got once he latched on to something, and right now, all he had was this new series running around in his head that wouldn’t leave him alone. Maybe he could finish out this book and still have time to write the rest of the Cariggan series. In the little over two months until his final deadline. 

Hey, he might be able to write two books in two months. If he didn’t do anything but write and ignore his classes and not have a social life. 

He knew he couldn’t do all of that. He’d never get through the two classes he was taking this semester and write two books. He would like to make it to his senior year of college without having to retake Gothic Lit and Baroque Art. 

Stiles slowed down as he reached his neighborhood, breathing deep in order to cool down. He’d give himself another two hours tonight to try and write _Smoldering Moon_ before he gave up and did his reading for tomorrow’s Baroque class and had his phone date with Ethan.

*

Stiles rushed across campus, trying to avoid running into the people milling about the quad. He’d overslept after staying up too late writing what he told himself he wouldn’t. He’d done his phone date with Ethan, but was distracted the whole time thinking about the next part of _Scarlet Descent._ Ethan had wanted to come over, but Stiles blamed homework as he ended the call early and then spent the rest of the night writing, finally passing out on his keyboard well after 4am. 

Stiles hadn’t been this distracted by writing since he had started the first Cariggan novel over a year ago. He’d changed his major to creative writing from criminal psychology during his sophomore year after he decided he’d much rather spend his time making up his own characters with sordid back stories than studying why people killed each other. He’d had enough of practice with that after 18 years worth of afternoons spent in the police station with his dad.

Finally reaching Macintyre Hall, Stiles heard his phone ring in his pocket but shut it off as he slipped into the classroom right as his Baroque professor began his lecture.

*

Stiles walked out of the building, turning his phone back on. Seeing he had a missed call, he dialed his voicemail, knowing it was his agent. A man’s gruff tone was not the voice he expected.

“Mr. Stilinski, this is Derek Hale from Hale and Argent. Please give me a call as soon as you can. Peter has assigned me to you and I’d like to talk about the manuscript I have yet to see on my desk.”

There was no parting greeting, just the click of the end of the call. Stiles stared down at his phone, wondering why Peter had given his novels over to someone else. Maybe he had pissed him off more than he’d thought by being three weeks late with his new chapters.

Stiles sighed and shoved his phone down in his bag, heading to the student center to meet Ethan and his friends for lunch. He needed some food and caffeine before he called Mr. Sourvoice back. 

*

“Danny, Boyd, Erica, over here!” Stiles yelled, waving them over to the table where he and Ethan sat. “Hey guys. How was class this morning?”

Danny sat down across from Stiles, opening the foil on his chicken sandwich. “Man, my computer engineering class is killing me. I have to write ten pages of theoretical concepts by next week. I’m not going to be able to do anything this weekend.” Danny sighed and took a bite. 

Erica waved her fork around, salad precariously speared on the end. “My public relations class is so awesome! Professor Haynes totally pushes us to talk about things that we’re passionate about. I gave a speech last week where I argued about the legitimacy of gay marriage. It was so epic.” 

Boyd moved his head around, dodging the flying spinach pieces. “Journalism is great. Made an A on my last assignment.”

Stiles laughed. “Ladies and gentlemen, winner for most succinct goes to Mr. Vernon Boyd! He’ll win awards for changing the world, two hundred words at a time.” Stiles took a bite of his burrito as Ethan, Erica, and Danny laughed, Boyd smirking as he bit into his pizza. 

“How’s your manuscript going, my big writer?” Erica smacked him on the shoulder. 

“I am not a big writer. I haven’t even gotten published yet.” Stiles frowned, taking a sip of his coke.

“You’ve got a book deal, sweetie, which is really impressive.” Ethan rubbed his hand over Stiles’ back. 

Stiles leaned over, nuzzling Ethan’s nose. “You’re so cute when you’re proud of me.” Stiles kissed him.

“You’d be published already if you’d ever stick to your deadlines.” Danny rolled his eyes, throwing a fry at Stiles’ head as he pulled back from Ethan.

“Hey, I meet deadlines.” They all looked at him incredulously. “Ok, most deadlines. But I’m really trying this time, guys. I just got this new idea for another seri-“

“Here we go again. It’s like when you first started writing your original series. You had to get three extensions just to finish your classes last year. I’m still not sure how you got Professor Blake to let you use that book chapter as your final in Post Modern Lit,” Erica said.

“I told her it was an exercise in deconstruction because the assignment didn’t matter so why did it matter what I turned in. I’m still shocked she bought it.” Stiles chuckled, shoving the last bits of his burrito in his mouth. “I’ve got to go, guys,” Stiles said after he swallowed his food. “I’ve got Gothic Lit in two hours and I haven’t finished the reading yet.”

Ethan looked up at Stiles sharply. “Isn’t that what you were doing last night when you told me not to come over?” 

Stiles inwardly cringed. Shit. He’d forgotten he’d told Ethan that. “Yeah, I was going to do that, then I just couldn’t stop writing in the new series and… yeah. Sorry.” 

Ethan looked annoyed. “You shouldn’t even be writing that. And if you weren’t going to do homework or write in the novel you’re supposed to, I could have spent some time with you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks outside of an errant lunch.”

Stiles glanced around at his friends, who had the decency to look very interested in their lunches. Even if he knew they were all eavesdropping. “Listen, Ethan, I’m sorry. It’s just how my muses work sometime. I have to follow where they take me.” Ethan still looked pouty. “How about this, I promise to take you out this weekend. No homework, no writing, just us?”

Ethan smiled. “That sounds great.” Stiles stood up, gathering his trash and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later.” Stiles leaned over and kissed Ethan. “And I’ll call you tonight if I have time before work.”

Ethan waved as Stiles walked away. He knew he was being an absentee boyfriend, but he had a lot more on this plate than anyone else had. Classes, writing, work, friends, boyfriend. It was just a lot to juggle. 

But at least Ethan was mollified for the time being. 

*

Stiles hated his job. Ok, so he actually didn’t mind the work so much, but the stupid students who came in day after day really got on his nerves. He’d had a job at the campus bookstore since his first semester, needing work study to help pay the remaining balance on his tuition after the academic scholarship he’d gotten. Over the past three years, he’d actually moved up in the ranks, getting hired for more hours than just his work study after they promoted him to shift manager and then assistant manager. That did mean more money, but it also meant he had to deal with all the twerps who thought work study was free money and tuition help. 

Today he was working with Matt, another junior who had been there almost as long as Stiles and who was the shift manager on duty with him that night. 

“So, Stilinski, are you working tomorrow? I wasn’t sure who they got to fill in for me.” Matt was shelving books next to Stiles in the New Releases section as Stiles fixed a display. 

“Yeah. It was supposed to be my day off so I could write, but I could use the cash.” Stiles reordered the books in front of him, sighing at how no one ever put the books back where they went. 

“I thought you had that book deal. Doesn’t that mean you don’t ever have to work again or some shit like that?” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, genius. While I have been picked up by an agent and have a publisher interested, I have to finish my manuscripts and the books have to get published before I’ll ever see any money. And even then, I have to hope they sell well in order to get an advance to write more.” 

“Sounds like a shit deal to me. How are you ever going to make money that way?”

Stiles turned on Matt, narrowing his eyes. “Well, Daehler, I’m still doing better than you are. Or did someone come and offer to publish that stupid poetry shit you write that you think is so good?” 

“Oh, fuck you, Stilinski, I have you know that the campus lit mag just printed three of my poems.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh that’s great. You’ll be famous in no time.” He walked toward the counter to wait on a customer. He and Matt had this fight all the time. The eternal fight between prose and poetry. 

“Did you find everything ok?” Stiles asked the girl. She nodded, looking dazed. 

“Yeah, dude, I totally did.” 

Stiles guessed the girl was high, especially considering all she was buying was three boxes of Easy Mac, a frozen burrito, and a package of clearance pencils.

As the girl walked out, Matt came behind the counter. “So, has Danny said anything about our study date the other night?” 

“You and Danny went out?” Stiles couldn’t believe Danny didn’t tell him.

“Well, we had a study group with some other people in our class, but we were paired off for the outlines.”

Stiles laughed at Matt, who looked at Stiles sheepishly. “Sounds like it got hot and heavy. Did you split up the work or did you _do it together_?”

Stiles giggled as Matt punched him in the arm. “Hey, you don’t know how he looked at me. The air was super charged the whole time.”

Stiles clapped Matt on the back. “Sure it was Matt, sure it was.”

Stiles heard someone clear their throat behind him. “Excuse me, but do you have any copies of _Fifty Shades of Gray_?”

Stiles groaned. He really did hate his job sometimes. 

* 

“I know, Dad, everyone else has been on me about it, too.” Stiles laid back on the couch, his dad chuckling on the other end. 

“I’m sure they are, son.” Stiles heard a doorbell over the phone. “I’ve gotta go, kiddo. That’s Melissa. We’re going out to dinner.”

“Have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave much, does it?” 

Stiles laughed. “Not if you want to keep your job, no.”

Stiles hung up the phone after saying good bye. He was glad his dad had Melissa. It made him feel better about leaving him all alone while he and Scott were hours away at school. 

Stiles sat his phone on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. Right when he was taking his homemade pita pizza out of the oven, he heard his phone ring. He stashed his pizza on the counter, trying not to burn himself, and hurried into the living room. Right as he got to his phone, it stopped ringing and went to voicemail. 

He looked down at the number. It was just as well. It was his agent anyway. 

Stiles sighed and walked back into the kitchen. He’d eat first, then deal with that.

* 

After he finished his pizza, he called his voicemail. It was Mr. Sourvoice again, telling him he needed to call him immediately. Stiles rolled his eyes. He had called Stiles yesterday morning. It wasn’t like he’d been avoiding him. Much. 

Stiles sighed. He might as well get it over with. 

When the other end picked up, it was a woman. “Hale and Argent Literary Agency. How may I direct your call?” 

“May I speak to Derek Hale, please?” 

“He’s in a meeting right now. May I take a message?” Really? The guy called him an hour ago and now he was unavailable. And it was almost eight on a Tuesday. What kind of guy worked that late anyway?

“Just tell him Stiles Stilinski returned his call.” 

“Mr. Stilinski, he told me you might call back. He wanted me to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you are available.” 

Stiles groaned inwardly. Of course he did. “I’m free all day Friday.” Stiles had been looking forward to a rare day off. So much for that. 

“He has an opening at 12:30. How would that be?”

“That’s fine. Pencil me in, or whatever it is that you assistants do in these situations.” 

“Very well, Mr. Stilinski. Have a pleasant night.” 

Stiles threw his phone on the table and picked up _The Mysteries of Udolpho_. He had to finish it before class tomorrow.

*

Stiles skidded up to the table where Ethan sat. “Sorry I’m late. We had an in class writing thing in Baroque and I got carried away talking about Georges de La Tour’s _Magdalen with the Double Flame_.” 

Ethan smiled up at him, but Stiles could tell he was annoyed. Stiles ignored it. Ethan really overreacted too much. It wasn’t like he was late because of something stupid. It was class.

“Let me just go grab a sandwich from somewhere and I’ll be right back.” Stiles dropped his stuff at the table and walked towards the food lines. 

When he walked back to the table, Ethan was packing up his bag. “Hey, where are you going?” 

Ethan looked up at Stiles. “I have a study group for my BioChem class. I’ve got to meet them in fifteen minutes.”

Stiles sat his tray down a little too hard, annoyed. “Then why did you insist we have lunch together? I could have been writing or working through the stacks of research I have to get through before the end of the semester.” 

“We would have been able to have lunch if you wouldn’t have been late.” Ethan tugged his backpack strap up his shoulder, looking at Stiles petulantly. 

“I was ten minutes late, Ethan. How would that have given us time to eat together? I know you don’t have class before three on Mondays and Wednesdays, but some of us have classes that don’t end until 12:15.”

Ethan frowned at Stiles. “Of course, Stiles. No one is ever as busy as you are and no one else’s schedule matters.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You should have told me is all.”

“And when would I have done that? We never talk unless I call you.” 

Stiles huffed as he sat down. “Now you’re just being petty. You know that isn’t true.”

“Whatever, Stiles. I don’t have time to fight with you right now. I’ve got to go.” Ethan spun on his heel and stormed out of the food court. 

Stiles groaned and unwrapped his sandwich. This is not what he wanted to deal with right now. 

Dating Ethan was supposed to be fun. They’d started talking to one another around Halloween. He’d been at a party at Danny’s apartment where he’d been dressed up as Shredder from _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_. Ethan had come up and started singing the Ninja Rap. Stiles had recognized Ethan from his American Lit and Social Theory class sophomore year, but had never talked to him. They’d spent the rest of the night talking and drinking on Danny’s couch. Ethan had thought it was really awesome that Stiles was in the process of being published. Ethan wasn’t a writer, but his minor was English and he loved postmodern literature. As the night progressed, most of their conversation centered around literature and people in their class. 

Ethan hadn’t called Stiles until about a week before finals, but they’d hung out a little before the end of the semester. They officially became a _thing_ once spring semester started. It was easy and fun. Stiles liked Ethan, he really did, though sometimes Stiles thought Ethan might have deeper feelings for him than he did for Ethan. But hell, they’d only been going out a little over two months. It wasn’t like he was ready to run off and get married. 

They really have had fun over the past few months, but he realized it was becoming more trouble than it was worth. 

*

Stiles ran into Peter’s office, hand flailing in the air. “Listen, Peter, I know I was supposed to have new chapters here three weeks ago but I just got bogged down with school and work and everything else and I just couldn’t write as much as I wanted.” 

The chair behind the desk turned around and it wasn’t Peter sitting in it like Stiles expected. It was one of the hottest men Stiles had ever seen in person, even with the disgruntled look on his face. Somehow, the grumpy look just made him sexier. He had artfully groomed stubble across his face and the most hypnotic eyes he’d ever seen. They weren’t quite green and they weren’t quite brown, but somewhere in between. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored to his body, giving hints to strong, tight muscles underneath. Muscles that would feel so good underneath his fingertips as he ran his hands all over his – 

Broody Guy cleared his throat. Stiles shook his head, feeling a flush rise on his cheeks. Right. He was here for a meeting. And he had a boyfriend. “You are not Peter.” 

“You are correct, Mr. Stilinski,” Broody Guy said, shuffling the papers around on his desk. “From what I can tell, you’ve missed your last two deadlines because of similar problems.” Broody Guy looked up at him. “Is there a problem, Mr. Stilinski?”

“Call me Stiles, please. Mr. Stilinski was my grandfather. People usually say that was their father’s name, but my dad is Sheriff Stilinski, and it would be really weird if you called me that.” Stiles looked up at Broody Guy sheepishly, realizing he was rambling. “So yeah, Stiles will do.”

Broody Guy looked at him impassively. “Fine, Stiles. But you still didn’t answer my question. Are you serious about this offer?” 

Stiles sat down, arms still moving with emphatic gestures as he talked. “Of course I am!”

“Then is there something that Hale and Argent can do to help?”

“Nah, it’s really just that I got a new idea for another series and it’s been eating my brain and I can’t stop writing it. I know it’s not the Cariggan series, but this new one is really good, maybe even better than that one.”

Broody Guy glared at him. And man, he could glare. “You were signed on for three books in a particular series, Stiles. If you can’t produce, then maybe you should find yourself a different agency that will let their clients turn their manuscripts in whenever they deem necessary.” 

Stiles glared at Broody Guy. How dare he threaten him? He’s never had this kind of treatment from Peter or even Chris, who is by far the harsher one. He’s always bugged them and gotten yelled at, but they’ve never threatened to take away their backing of his books. Peter was the one that signed him last summer and has been behind his writing since the beginning. Yeah, Peter creeped him out a little with his intense stares, but Stiles learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. So Broody Guy was really pissing him off. 

“Listen her, Broody McBrooderson, if y-“

“Derek.” 

Stiles stopped, glaring. “What?”

“My name is Derek. Not… Broody McBrooderson.” Derek raised his eyebrow, looking almost amused.

“Fine, _Derek_ , if you think you can intimidate me into doing what you want, then you’re wrong. Peter has always been supportive of whatever I do and knows he will get his pages, even if a little late. So how about you ask him about your little statement ab-“

“Peter is no longer your direct agent. I am. He had to delegate some of his less… lucrative clients in order to focus on more productive and important ones.”

Stiles gaped at Derek, but then shook his head, laughing. “So you’re the one that gets stuck with all the crappy clients, huh? You may have said that to make me feel bad, but you sure as hell made yourself look like a peon in the process, there, buddy.” 

Derek glared at him. “I just started as a junior agent, so of course I have to start at the bottom.”

A thought occurred to Stiles. “Wait, you’re the grumpy guy that called me the other day. You’re a Hale. Why aren’t you working on all the important clients? Not good enough to follow in the family business?”

Derek’s glare got even harsher. “I choose to start from the bottom, _Stiles_. I don’t expect special treatment, unlike some people, even if my uncle owns this company. I haven’t earned a place higher than junior agent. Not all of us feel entitled like you obviously feel you are.”

Stiles stood up, banging his hand on the desk. “I am _not_ entitled! I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, thank you very much! Peter and I just had a pattern. I’d miss a few small deadlines, he’d bitch at me over e-mail and voice mail, he’d threaten bodily harm, and I’d eventually come through with everything that he needed. So how about you just run off to your uncle, _junior_ , and see what he says about all of this?” 

Derek stood to face Stiles. “As I said, you’re now my client. And I don’t work that way. If you want to remain a client with Hale and Argent, _Stiles_ , then you will have the next six chapters of your novel to me by Monday or I will be forced to terminate your contract due to lack of performance.”

“But that’s only three days! And I only missed two deadlines, that’s just four chapters!” 

“Monday, Stiles. That’s final.”

Stiles glared at Derek, but knew when to stop pushing. “Fine. You’ll have them by the end of the day Monday.”

“I leave at five, so try to have them in before that.”

Stiles walked out of the office without responding, trying to stop himself from turning around and punching Derek’s ridiculously attractive stubble right off his face. 

*

Stiles threw open the door to the apartment, still angry about his meeting. “Scott, you will never believe it! Peter – “ 

“Stiles, hi.” Scott jumped off the couch, hastily fixing his shirt and adjusting his pants. “I thought your meeting would take longer.” Lydia slowly rose up on the couch, wiping at the edge of her mouth to fix her smudged lipstick.

“Shit, Scott, sorry. I’ll just… go to my room and put on some headphones.” Stiles scurried off toward the kitchen to grab a coke first. 

“Don’t worry about it, Stiles. I have to go. I have a calc lab that I have to get to.” Lydia stood up, adjusting her slightly skewed skirt before grabbing her purse and walking toward the door. Scott followed behind her. “I’ll see you later, Scott.” She leaned over, kissing him. 

Scott grabbed her neck, pulling her closer, and Stiles turned back toward the cabinets, suddenly really interested in getting a snack. He heard the door close behind him and turned back around to see a dopey look on Scott’s face as he sat on the couch. 

“You’ve got lipstick on your nose, dude.” Stiles patted his shoulder as plopped down beside him. 

Scott scrubbed his nose, smile still lighting his face. “Lydia is so awesome. I can’t believe someone like her would even give me a second glance.”

Stiles took a sip of his drink and sighed. “You should be. I’ve seen her chew boys up and spit them out. You remember that scene in the quad freshman year. Greenberg was devastated.” Stiles looked at Scott thoughtfully. “What ever happened to him, anyway?” 

“He transferred.”

Stiles raised his can. “Of course he did! You can’t come back from treatment like that.” Stiles looked seriously over at Scott. “Just give her whatever she wants, dude. You can’t transfer out right before senior year.”

Scott laughed. “Greenberg was an idiot. Lydia’s with me for my mind.”

Stiles laughed, spitting coke across the room.

Scott hit Stiles on the back of the head. “Fine, asshole, maybe I’m not an Einstein in every subject, but I’m an ace in anatomy and biology. Lydia was attracted to my ability to dissect a cat.”

“Or maybe you just spent all Fall semester wearing her down and she finally decided you were just non-idiotic enough to go out with.” 

Scott smiled over at Stiles. “Yeah, probably.” Scott laughed. “But I’m with her now, and it’s awesome.”

“I know.”

“No really, Stiles, so awesome.”

“I _know_ , Scott. We do share a wall.” Stiles shuddered. “There are things that a man should never know about his best friend, and that noise you made last week…”

Scott winced. “Yeah, sorry about that. But Lydia did this thing with her tongue tha-“

Stiles threw his hands over his ears. “Nope, don’t need to know, buddy. Let’s leave some stories for when we’re ninety, okay?”

Scott laughed. “Yeah.” Scott got up and went to grab a coke from the fridge. “What were you saying when you came in, something about Peter? Is he being super creepy again?”

“No, but he totally pushed me off on some disgustingly hot, incredibly grumpy junior agent who totally ripped me a new one and threatened to take away my contract.” 

Scott walked back over to the couch, leaning against the arm. “Disgustingly hot, huh? What would Ethan say?” 

“He’d say how hot he was.” Stiles glared at him. “And really, that’s what you got out of that comment? That the guy’s hot? Not that he threatened to drop my deal?”

Scott laughed. “You get threatened with that, like, once a month. You don’t call someone disgustingly hot that often.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles grumbled. He took another sip of coke and sighed. “Ok, so the guy had stubble that I wanted to rub all over my body. Maybe Ethan can grow a beard…”

“Hey, didn’t we just talk about leaving things until we’re ninety?” 

Stiles gave him the finger. “Hey, you’re the one so interested in this. But anyway, he told me I had to have six chapters to him, by _Monday_ , or he’d drop my option. Looks like I won’t be going anywhere this weekend. Ethan and I were supposed to go to the Hitchcock film festival in town tomorrow.”

Scott pushed off the couch and grabbed his backpack by the door. “Serves you right for writing everything but what you’re supposed to.” Stiles flicked Scott off again. Scott laughed, opening the door. “Just get busy, okay, Stiles. I know how much this means to you. I’m going to work and then to Lydia’s. You’ll have the place to yourself all night. Make good use of it, okay?”

Stiles waved to Scott as he walked out the door. He’d make good use of it, alright. Stiles got up off the couch and headed to his room to jerk off. Writing would have to wait.

*

Stiles called Ethan to tell him that he had to cancel. He wasn’t happy, but there was nothing that Stiles could do about it. He had just over three days to write six chapters. He needed to put all his energy into writing. Not worrying about his boyfriend’s issues that were unwarranted. 

Stiles shook his head and walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. It was going to be a long weekend. 

*

Stiles wrote until he couldn’t see straight, falling asleep right as the sun peaked over the horizon. 

He had stared at the page for hours to start with, no inspiration. The first few times he tried to write, he ended up writing a new scene for _Scarlet Descent_ that he had to move over to his manuscript for that. He’d finally started to write once he read back through the last few chapters of _Frozen Sun_.

He’d gotten three text messages from Derek, each reminding him how many hours he had left until his chapters were due. The guy really was dedicated.

He’d only finished a chapter before he fell asleep. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a start.

*

“Can’t we just go to one of the movies? Or out for dinner or something?” Ethan pleaded over the phone.

“I have just over forty eight hours to finish five chapters in a book I’m completely blocked on. I managed to write one chapter last night, but I’ve got to force myself through this or I could lose everything! We’ll do something next week.”

Ethan sighed. “Yeah, I’m sure. Then you’ll show up late or postpone again.” 

Stiles scoffed. “That’s not fair, Ethan. I know I’ve been distracted the last few weeks, but it isn’t like you’ve never had to reschedule because of labs or work. We’re both busy. Doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other.”

“But I haven’t seen you since Wednesday. We haven’t even had a chance to have make-up sex since the last time we fought. And now we’re fighting again.”

“We’re not fighting. We’re simply disagreeing.” 

Ethan laughed sardonically. “Disagreeing at a very intense level and volume is usually considered fighting. I really don’t know why you can’t take the time to come have dinner with me.”

Stiles wanted to throw something. It was like talking to a brick wall. “Ethan, I explained this to you yesterday. They threatened to cancel my book option. I can’t just put it off. Don’t you understand that? It’s my whole future that’s at stake here. I can’t risk it for a stupid dinner with you.”

“A stupid dinner, huh? Is that all our time together is?” Ethan sounded hurt. 

Stiles hadn’t meant to say it like that, but he didn’t have time for this. “That didn’t come out how I meant it to. I just have too much to do this weekend to worry about how it might hurt your feelings.”

“Fine. Just call me when you have time to think about someone _other_ than yourself.” 

Stiles sighed as the phone disconnected. He couldn’t worry about this right now. He refilled his cup of coffee and went back over to his chair. He still had five chapters to finish. 

* 

He spent his whole shift at work staring at the wall in between scribbling things down in his notebook. 

Matt asked him to help a customer, but after Stiles made the poor freshman cry just because he asked for a book by Dan Brown, Matt left him alone to write. 

Before he left, Matt told him he’d take his Sunday shift. He was worried he’d scare off all the customers if he came in. Stiles gave him a huge hug before he left. Maybe he’d have to put in a good word for Matt with Danny. 

*

“But Scott, I need more coffee. Please bring it to me!” Stiles whimpered as he spun in his desk chair. 

Scott laughed. “Stiles, you are pretty much living on caffeine and adrenaline at this point. Take a half an hour break, eat something that isn’t microwaved, and calm down. You’ve got, what, four chapters down? You’ve got more than twenty four hours to finish the final two chapters. You’ve been on a roll the last five or so hours. Half an hour won’t kill you.”

Stiles took a deep breath. “If you’ll come home and bring me the biggest cup of Starbucks coffee in the next hour, I will promise to make myself a salad and lay on the couch until you get home.”

“Fine, Stiles. But I’m brining Lydia back with me. Her roommate’s family is down and so there are way too many people in her apartment right now.”

Stiles got up from his chair and limped toward the kitchen. Sitting nonstop for days made his legs stiff as hell. “That’s fine, Scott. Just bring the fucking caffeine. And earplugs if you intend to have some kind of squeal inducing escapade with her tonight. I’d usually let you bro code me out of the apartment, but I can’t tonight, buddy.”

Scott chuckled. “I’ll do that, Stiles. Now, rest.”

*

He may have had to skip both his classes and call in a favor from a freshman at the bookstore to cover his Monday shift, but he’d gotten his chapters done plus two more. After Scott brought him caffeine Sunday night, he’d hit a streak and finished his last two chapters. But then he couldn’t stop and ended up writing two more. He’d even had time to reread them to make sure he hadn’t written nonsense during one of his caffeine induced stupors. 

“I’m here! I’ve got them! It’s not five yet.” Stiles skidded into Derek’s office, breathing heavily. “I’ve got my pages, as requested.”

Derek looked up at him, unimpressed. Stiles noticed that he looked just as hot as he did on Friday, this time in a black suit with a deep purple shirt and grey tie. He tried not to focus on that when Derek was looking at him as if he was annoyed he’d finally made his deadline. 

Stiles glared at Derek as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know why you insisted you get them in person but here is your hard copy.” Stiles dropped the thick packet on Derek’s desk. 

Derek leaned forward, looking down at the papers on his desk. “This seems rather long for six chapters.” 

“Hey, first you complain about not getting enough and now you’re complaining about getting too much.” Stiles sat in the chair across from Derek’s desk. “I finally hit a hot streak last night and ended up writing eight chapters instead of six! I figured it’d be good prepayment for being late.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles, still looking unimpressed.

“Come on, dude, this is awesome. I got past my block! The first eight chapters of book two are done. I am well on my way to finishing this novel by the end of May!”

“That’s not that impressive, Stiles.”

“Hey, I worked my ass off all weekend and barely slept to get these to you. And it is impressive when I have classes to get through and a job on top of having to write them. Not all of us can have fancy office jobs where we just sit around and badger innocent writers all day.”

Derek looked as if he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, it’s not as hard as sleeping through the latest modern art lecture at the university, but I manage to keep busy.”

“I take Baroque, thank you very much.” 

Derek smirked. Stiles shouldn’t find that as sexy as he did, but the way Derek’s eye crinkled was distracting. “My mistake. So much harder.” Derek focused on the pages on his desk. “You can leave now.” 

Stiles stood up, grumbling. “I’ll show you what’s harder. My fist in your face would be harder.” 

Derek raised his head. “What was that, Stiles?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Oh, and send me an electronic version when you get home. The editor over at EDGE wants it through e-mail,” Derek said when Stiles was almost at the door. 

Stiles swung around, angry. “What? Then why the hell did I have to come all the way down here?” 

Derek glanced up at Stiles. “Because I wanted to make sure you finished it.”

“I had to switch shifts with someone to come down here!” Stiles yelled.

“Then you’ll know better than to be so far behind on your pages next time, won’t you? And this is a place of business, Stiles, please keep your voice down.” Derek turned to his computer, dismissing Stiles. 

Stiles turned around and stormed out of Derek’s office. He really did want to punch that smirk off his face. 

*

“Hello Peter, call to apologize about your nephew being a slave driver?” Stiles held his phone between his ear and shoulder, sliding a frozen pizza into the oven.

He’d come back to his apartment after he’d dropped off his manuscript and tried to sleep, but he still had too much caffeine in his system. But at least now he was done with his reading for class up until next week.

“Stiles, Derek is not a slave driver. But he is quite eager to prove himself.” Peter sighed into the phone as Stiles set the timer on the oven. 

“I can tell. I thought Chris was a tough one to impress.” 

Peter chuckled. “He isn’t quite as bad as he comes off. He’s just new to the whole industry and wants to set a tough standard.” Peter paused. “He told me he read your pages. He seemed rather impressed. So don’t see his tendency for, shall we say, gruffness as a sign of disinterest.” 

Stiles laughed, leaning back against the counter. “I did call him Broody McBrooderson the first time I met him.” 

Peter laughed. “I’m sure he loved that.”

Stiles walked over to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. “Yeah, he wasn’t too impressed with my tactics. He doesn’t put up with me nearly as well as you do.”

“I imagine not. But Stiles, you have to be better about your deadlines. You can’t get this far behind again.”

Stiles groaned. “I know. I can’t have another weekend like this past one. I’ve never had so much caffeine at one time before. I think I might be up for the next three days sweating it all out.”

“How about you set up a system where you write a little each week? Send him fifteen pages or so. That way, you won’t get so far behind again.” 

Stiles contemplated it as he took a sip of water. “I think I can do that. I’ll call him tomorrow and set it up.”

Stiles hung up the phone after swapping a few more pleasantries with Peter. He was just finishing his bottle of water when the oven dinged to signal his pizza was done. 

*

Stiles strolled into Derek’s office, smile on his face. “Hey, McBrooderson, how are you today?” 

Derek looked up from his desk, seeming amused. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Stiles plopped down in the chair in front of Derek’s desk. “I’m great. I slept for fourteen hours straight last night and there were no idiots that came into work looking for badly written erotica or conspiracy theorist crap, so I’m awesome!”

“Book snob, are we?” Derek raised an eyebrow. “You do realize you write fantasy novels about wolf form creatures from another planet, right? It isn’t like you’re Cormac McCarthy or F Scott Fitzgerald.”

Stiles scoffed, leaning toward Derek. “And what is wrong with carefully plotted sci-fi novels with intricate characterizations and extensive world building? Would it be better if I didn’t use quotation marks or had a golden age to mourn?” Stiles smirked as he leaned back in his chair. “And I have it on good authority that you like my novels.”

Derek looked at Stiles wearily. “What gives you that idea?”

Stiles smile widened. “Your uncle told me you’ve read my first manuscript and loved my new pages.”

“Well, I, um, may have read your pages. And I didn’t hate it.” Stiles could see Derek’s ears turning pink.

“Ha! I knew it.” Stiles giggled. “You like my wolfies! You can’t wait to see what happens with the trader on Haldor.” 

Derek looked annoyed, though the blush hadn’t faded from his face. “Fine. You do have a way with suspense and character development. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“I won’t, big guy, don’t worry.” Stiles still grinned, but knew that their banter (flirting?) wasn’t what he was there for. “So, Peter suggested that we come up with some kind of arrangement where I write a certain number of pages each week. That way, I won’t end up so far behind and you won’t have to pull out the scare tactics.”

Derek nodded. “That sounds like a fair plan.” Derek pulled up some file on his computer. “You have two months and one week until your manuscript deadline. We should be able to estimate how many pages you need to write a week to finish the book on time.”

“Sounds great! Now, let’s talk a little more about my book. What is it that you like most about my work?”

Derek groaned, but they spent the next hour talking about his books. Once Derek got the pinched look off of his face, he was actually a pretty nice guy.

*

The next few weeks passed in a blur. He had midterms, so he spent the next week studying for his Baroque test and working on his rough draft and test in Gothic. He aced all of his assignments, even with all the time he had to spend at work. One of the sophomores transferred to a school closer to her hometown, so as assistant manager, he had to cover her shifts until they could move everyone else’s schedules around to divide the work load. 

And then there was his writing. He hadn’t been late with any of his pages and he felt like he’d finally hit his stride and the words were flowing smoothly from his fingers. 

But all this meant that he didn’t get to see any of his friends. Or Ethan. Which led to more discord in their relationship. He did take him out like he promised, but they’d only had lunch or study dates since then. And with the way his to do list kept piling up as the semester went on, he wasn’t sure that would change much. 

“Ethan, I’m sorry, but I have to work this afternoon and I have to get the last of this week’s pages ready to send. I just don’t have time to do anything tonight. Raincheck?”

Ethan sighed. “I’ve only seen you four times in the past three weeks. And three of those, we just studied together for a few hours. I used to see you almost everyday.”

Stiles scrubbed his hand over his face. “I know, Ethan, but I’m busy. And we talked about this ad nauseam. Until I finish this book, I’m not going to have that much time to hang out. It’s not like I’m purposefully avoiding you. Hell, I’ve barely seen Scott and he’s my roommate. What else do you want from me?”

“I’d like to see my boyfriend, that’s what!” Ethan said, voice rising.

“I know, but I can’t change my schedule right now.” Stiles glanced at the clock. “Listen, I gotta go or I’ll be late for work.”

“Fine. But we’ll talk about this later.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes as he hung up. Stiles was a busy guy, Ethan knew that. 

But now he was so busy all the time and Ethan seemed jealous. It wasn’t like he was seeing another guy, it was work and studying. And writing. Writing was way more important than Ethan’s issues. 

Stiles shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Couldn’t worry about that now. He had to be at work in fifteen minutes. 

*

“Stilinski, stop sexting with your boyfriend, there’s a customer.” Matt nudged Stiles’ shoulder, pointing to a girl with purple hair at the counter.

Stiles looked up from his phone, hitting the send button. “I am not sexting.” 

Truth was, he was texting Derek. It had started out with a few errant texts here and there, but then Derek randomly texted him after he’d seen a really crappy movie, and it had escalated form there. Stiles would text when he read some great article or after he’d seen the recent episode of _Game of Thrones._

Today, Derek had texted him to tell him he liked the new plot twist he’d thrown in on his last chapter, but it had soon turned away from that, as it so often did over the past few weeks. 

They were currently in the middle of a debate about who was better, the Coen Brothers or Wes Anderson. Stiles was Anderson all the way, but Derek kept trying to convince him that _No Country For Old Men_ was reason enough for their superior status. 

Right as Stiles was handing Purple Girl her receipt, his phone buzzed. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Stiles smiled. 

**It was based on McCarthy’s brilliant novel and Javier Bardem was genius in that movie. His Oscar was dutifully won.**

Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course Derek commented on the one Coen Brothers movie that was based on Cormac McCarthy. And he pulled out the Oscar card. He kept trying to impress Stiles with his expansive knowledge of movies and books, but Derek had met his match in him.

**Oh come on, Johnny Depp should have won for Sweeny Todd.**

Stiles really did agree that Bardem won fair and square, but Stiles like to rile Derek up. Stiles’ phone buzzed again. 

**Give me a fucking break! Bardem was brilliant. As much as Johnny Depp deserves an Oscar, he missed out when he wasn’t nominated for Ed Wood.**

**Okay, you are right there. But that was before the Academy started nominating more mainstream things. Not really in their favor, honestly. Don’t even get me started on Melissa McCarthy getting nominated for Bridesmaids. That was epic bullshit.**

**Thank you! I’ve been trying to convince my sister that Bridesmaids is the worst movie ever since she made me watch it with her.**

Stiles smiled. His phone buzzed again. 

**But just because you’re right about Bridesmaids doesn’t mean you’re right about the genius that is the Coen Brothers.**

Stiles felt Matt whack him in the back of the head. “Dude, come on. I have to finish restocking the shelves and there are two people waiting to check out. Get your head out of your ass.” 

Stiles stuck his phone back in his pocket, smiling. He’d tear apart Derek’s opinions later. 

* 

Stiles walked into the apartment, throwing his bag on the chair by the door. When he turned around to head to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before he started to write, he jumped when he saw Ethan sitting on the couch reading a textbook. 

“Shit, Ethan, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Ethan put his book aside and stood. “I wanted to see you, so I decided to come over. Scott let me in on his way to Lydia’s.” Ethan walked over to Stiles, settling his hands on his hips. 

“While it’s nice to see you, Ethan, I told you. I have to write tonight. I’ve only got half of my pages written and they’re due by eight in the morning.” 

Ethan stepped back angrily. “Dammit, Stiles. Why do you always choose writing over me, over us?”

Stiles stared back at Ethan. “I’m not even going to go into this with you again. You knew when we met that I was working on getting my manuscripts published and that my writing was the most important thing to me. Why can’t you understand that?”

Ethan glared back. “I didn’t know that I’d be pushed aside for your book, over and over again.”

“I have to get it done! I also have two classes that I have to write fifteen page papers for as well as a final exam in Baroque. I also work thirty hours a week to be able to afford my bills. I’m sorry I don’t live in a fancy house with my twin and rich uncle, but some of us have other things to worry about.”

“You’ve never cared for me as much as your writing. It’s like you have a mistress or something. I never see you. We pretty much haven’t been a couple for weeks now.” Ethan threw his hands up. “I can’t do this anymore. If you don’t have time for me, then I need to stop wasting my time.”

Stiles sighed. He didn’t want it to end like this, but Ethan had a point. “Maybe you’re right, Ethan. I care about you, but I really am a terrible boyfriend. I’ve just got too much going on in my life. You deserve someone who can put you first.”

“Yes, I do.” Ethan slumped down on the couch. “And you need someone who can handle how much time you spend writing. Someone who can be more supportive.” Ethan looked up at Stiles. “That just isn’t me.”

Stiles moved across the room and sat beside Ethan on the couch. “We just didn’t quite fit, did we?”

Ethan chuckled. “No, no matter how much I tried to make it work. I think we both knew it wasn’t working. Not anyone’s fault, really.” Ethan stood up and crossed the apartment, grabbing his bag by the door. 

Stiles followed behind him.

Ethan opened the door, turning back to face Stiles once more. “I do hope everything works out with your books. You really are a fabulous writer.” 

“I hope everything works out with premed.” Stiles leaned over and kissed Ethan. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Ethan smiled and walked out the door. 

Stiles sunk down onto the couch, breathing deeply. He really did care for Ethan and enjoyed being around him, but this was the right choice. If he’d just waited until the end of the semester, they might have had a good summer. But then he’d have to start writing the third book in the series and the mess would start all over again. Plus, he still had a year left of college and was going to have to take at least three classes each semester to get all the classes he needed to graduate. 

But he was going to miss Ethan. 

Stiles took a deep breath. He’d allow himself time to wallow tomorrow. For now, he had more pages to finish. 

*

Stiles finished his pages before he went to bed and sent them off to Derek. 

He ate ice cream on the couch with Scott the next night and they talked about why it went wrong with Ethan. 

Overall, it is one of Stiles’ most congenial breakups. 

*

“Dude, I didn’t realize when I mentioned that Matt had a crush on you that you’d go out and get you some of that so quickly!” Stiles said as he and Danny picked up drinks for their table. They’d all spent the week working their asses off and decided to go out to celebrate the fact that they all had time off. It had been two weeks since he and Ethan broke up. He’d seen Ethan around a few times and they’d waved. He’d even seen him holding hands and having lunch with a new guy. 

“Of course I did! He’s witty, smart, and writes poetry. And he’s hot. What’s not to like?” Danny grinned at him as they grabbed their beers, heading back to the table.

“I’m glad to hear you’re happy.” Stiles smiled over at him. 

“Thanks, man.” 

Stiles dropped onto the stool next to Scott and Lydia and took a sip of his beer. Stiles groaned happily. “Nothing is better than a good Guinness on tap, man. Like, at all.” 

“Damn straight!” Erica said, holding up her pint glass. Stiles bumped glasses with her. “To Guinness.” They both took deep drags of their beer. “So, Boyd, how did your test go?”

After catching up with all his friends, Stiles surveyed the room as he finished his drink. He almost spit his beer out when he spotted Derek across the bar. 

He shoved Scott’s shoulder. “Dude, that’s Derek!”

Scott flipped around on his stool, searching the crowd. “Wow, that guy does have a ridiculous amount of stubble.”

“I told you!” Stiles slipped off his stool. “I’m going to go say hi.” Stiles made his way across the room, taking in the sight of Derek. Once they’d set up the manuscript schedule, he hadn’t seen Derek. They’d chatted a little bit through text and e-mail about where his story was going and how he could change things in revision, but he hadn’t seen him in almost three weeks. The visions of him in his head were nothing compared to the real thing. Derek was dressed in tight fitting jeans and a blue Henley. Stiles couldn’t decide which style he preferred on Derek, suit or jeans. Maybe both.

Reaching the group of people Derek was with, Stiles tapped him on the shoulder. “I didn’t realize hardass literary agents could have fun.”

Derek turned around and looked surprised. “Stiles, what are you doing here?” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Probably the same thing you are, genius. It is a bar.” 

Derek smirked at him. “Shouldn’t you be at home writing or something? I don’t have my pages for this week yet. You know they’re due in the morning.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, O Grumpy One. They were sent to your inbox a little over two hours ago.” Stiles grinned at him. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Well, good for you.” 

Stiles looked over and found Derek’s friends staring at him. He waved. “Hello, Derek’s friends. I’m Stiles. Derek here pesters me about my writing on a regular basis.”

A guy with curly hair smiled at him. “I’m Isaac. And we know who you –“ 

Derek kicked Isaac’s leg, cutting him off. A girl with long brown hair pointed to Isaac, who was rubbing his leg. “Yes, that’s Isaac. And that’s Cora and I’m Allison.” 

“Nice to meet you all.” Stiles looked at the glasses on the table. “Are you really drinking that weak ass beer, Derek?” 

His friends laughed, Allison butting Derek on the shoulder. “He has terrible taste in beer.”

Stiles smiled. “Then I need to change that.” Stiles walked over to the bar and ordered Derek a Guinness. Walking back to Derek’s table, Stiles handed him the pint, their fingers ghosting across one another. Stiles fought back a shiver. “Drink this.” 

Derek looked at the glass like it had the plague, but took a tentative sip. His eyebrows rose, shocked. “That is actually really good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Next time, maybe you can buy me the drink and try to get me interested in one of your crappy beers.” Stiles smirked at Derek, Derek smiling back. Stiles realized that everyone was staring at them again, so he cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll get back to my friends. It was nice seeing you, Derek.”

“You too.”

Stiles turned around and walked back to his table.

“That’s the guy you have the hots for?” Lydia looked over at Stiles “I approve. He’s absolutely divine.” 

Scott huffed, looking wounded. 

Stiles laughed. “Thanks, Lydia.”

“You’re welcome.” Lydia looked over at Scott, who still looked like a kicked puppy. “Oh, get over it, Scott. He’s obviously into men.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Of course he is.” Lydia turned up her nose. “You can be so oblivious sometimes, Stiles. He was flirting with you.”

Stiles sipped the end of his beer, looking over at Derek’s group thoughtfully. He’d kind of gotten a flirty vibe from Derek before, but Stiles played it off as wishful thinking. But Lydia was rarely wrong about guys.

*

“Do you think I should ask Derek out?” Stiles asked Scott over dinner. 

“He’s your agent. Isn’t there, like, a clause in your contract that says you can’t date your agent?” Scott shoved a few fries in his mouth.

Stiles shook his head, swallowing his bite of burger. “No, there isn’t.” Stiles paused, shifting his eyes to the side. “I checked.”

Scott laughed. “Dude, you’ve already got it bad and you haven’t even asked him out yet.”

Stiles shoved Scott’s shoulder. “Shut up, ass.” 

“Do you even have time for a boyfriend? I mean, isn’t that why you and Ethan broke up?” 

Stiles scratched the side of his face. “Yeah, I guess. But we would never have made it in the long run. But Derek’s different. He’s in the business. He knows how hard it is to be a writer.”

Scott shrugged. “Whatever you do, man, don’t let it fuck up your book deal.” Scott got up, putting his plate in the sink and walking out of the kitchen.

Stiles really wanted to ask Derek out, but Scott was right. He needed to stay focused. 

*

Stiles walked out of his room after having written all morning. It was well after lunch and he was starving. 

“Hey, dude, did you just get up? I haven’t seen you all day!” Scott got up from the couch, walking into the kitchen behind Stiles. 

Stiles pulled open the fridge, pulling out Chinese from the night before. “No, I’ve been up since before eight. I’ve been writing.” 

Scott patted him on the back. “That’s awesome dude! You’re getting ahead of schedule, huh?”

Stiles looked sheepish as he grabbed a fork from the drawer. “I was actually writing _Scarlet Decsent_ again.”

Scott groaned as he threw his head back. “Really, Stiles? You only have a month to finish _Smoldering Moon_.” 

“I know, but I got inspired, okay?” Stiles said around a mouthful of lo mein. “I’ll finish the other one, I swear. I just had to get this out first.”

*

“Dammit, Stiles, how could you do this again? We’d had a system that was working. And now you have half a book left to write and only three weeks to write it!” Derek yelled over the phone. 

“I know, Derek. I’m sorry. But I just couldn’t get my words flowing for the Cariggan series, so I tried _Scarlet Descent_ to get my muses back and I just couldn’t stop.” Stiles picked at the seam in the couch.

“Stiles, your other book is not what I’m representing. I don’t care how much of it you’ve written, you’re a week behind. I need last and this week’s pages. And soon.”

“And I’ll get them to you. I promise.” 

*

Stiles didn’t get Derek the pages. 

*

Stiles opened the door. He promptly tried to slam it against Derek’s face.

“Stiles, don’t slam the door on me.” Derek threw his hand up, holding the door open just enough to slip inside. 

“Oh, Derek, I didn’t recognize you. How you been, buddy?” Stiles awkwardly walked backwards. He had been avoiding Derek’s calls and e-mails, stuck in his own world of final papers, work, and _Scarlet Descent_. He hadn’t written anything in the Cariggan series in weeks. And the final draft was due in a little over a week. “What brings you out here? I’m sure your apartment is in a much better neighborhood judging by the cut of your suits.” Stiles hoped that if he kept rambling, Derek would just leave. Though Stiles couldn’t help but notice how hot Derek looked in his suit.

“No, I don’t live in this neighborhood. I live up town. Which makes it even more annoying that I have to drive all the way out here just to talk to your lazy ass.” Derek stood in the living room, looking angry. 

Stiles cringed. “Ok, I know, I am so far behind that I know I’m in trouble. But I’ve been so busy with school and work that I haven’t had a chance to write anything original.”

Derek leveled Stiles in a glare. 

Stiles shrank under the weight of his look. “Ok, fine, I’ve been writing _Scarlet Descent_ in all of my free time. I just can’t help it. I just have so many ideas and it’s flowing like Cariggan hasn’t in months and – “

Derek threw up his hands. “Dammit, Stiles. Are you trying to fuck this all up for you and for me? I could end up back in the fact checking division if this goes bad. And I don’t want that. I’ve worked too damn hard to make it here for you to mess it up now.” Derek ran his hands through his hair. “Now I’m going to sit here until you’ve written me at least ten pages.”

“But I have to go to work! And I have a study group for my final test in two days. I’ve just finished the final draft of my last paper and was planning on eating a snack and letting my brain decompress.” 

“Should have thought of that before you put it off for three weeks. You’ll just have to get someone to cover for you at work and study alone.” Derek unbuttoned his suit jacket, sitting down on the couch. 

Stiles noted how weird Derek looked sitting on his raggedy couch in such a nice suit. “Uh, fine. I can tell you’re more stubborn than I am. Scott, my roommate, has a stubborn streak a mile long. I know when to cave.”

Stiles pulled his phone out of his sweat pant’s pocket, dialing Matt. After Stiles agreed to work a double for him in the near future, Matt said he’d take his shift that afternoon. Stiles shoved his phone back in his pocket and spun on Derek. “There, happy now, Grumpy Face?”

Derek looked unimpressed.

Stiles sighed. “I’m going to make myself a snack and then I swear, I’ll write pages for you.”

Derek rolled his eyes but nodded. 

Stiles walked into the kitchen, grabbing out some ham, cheese, and bread. “Hey Derek, I’m going to make a hot ham and cheese sandwich, you want some?”

“I’m not hungry, but I would take a beer if you have it.” 

Stiles jumped, almost dropping the cheese as he heard Derek closer than expected. He turned around, seeing Derek in the kitchen doorway. “Warn a guy, huh? Do you even make noise when you walk?”

Derek smirked at him, leaning against the frame. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Stiles tried to keep his mouth from falling open. He wasn’t sure there had ever been anyone this hot in his kitchen. 

“Um, Stiles, you still with me? Can I get a beer?” Derek waved his hand in front of Stiles’ face, amused smirk on his face. 

Stiles shook his head, feeling a blush rising across her cheeks. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Stiles dropped his sandwich into the pan, turning the eye on. “Not that your presence doesn’t make me feel like a beloved client, but don’t you have better things to do than hang out here with me?” Stiles asked as he crossed to the fridge.

Derek took the beer Stiles offered him. “Well, to be honest, you’re my only client.”

Stiles flipped over his sandwich, turning back toward Derek. “What? You told me you had other clients!” 

Derek took a sip of his beer. “I lied.”

Stiles scoffed. “You know, you really are an ass.”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, well, I had to make you listen to me, didn’t I?”

Stiles grabbed a plate from the cabinet and put his sandwich on it. He leaned back against the counter, facing Derek. “How’d you end up stuck with me as a client? I would think Peter would let his nephew have a little more responsibility than some rookie sci-fi writer.”

Derek took another drink of his beer, contemplating his answer. Stiles tried not to get distracted by the long column of his throat and how much he wanted to run his tongue all over it.

“I didn’t want to be treated differently because of my name, so I started at the bottom just like everyone else. I would be higher up by now if it wasn’t for Chris, though. Something happened a while ago between me and his sister that didn’t end well.”

“What do you mean, didn’t end well?” Stiles couldn’t help being interested.

Derek gave a wry smile. “We dated, she was a crazy bitch, ended up getting arrested for stalking me. He knew she was in the wrong but he still holds it against me. And since he owns half the company, Peter had to deal with his input with every promotion. Which meant Chris always wanted someone else ahead of me.”

Stiles finished chewing his last bite of sandwich and crossed the kitchen to grab a coke from the fridge. “That sucks, dude.”

Derek shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot doing all the grunt work in editing and fact checking. But at a certain point, it just gets old. I’m only getting this chance now because Chris wanted to hire Allison after graduation at a higher position than she deserved with her level of experience. So Peter compromised that he’d let Chris hire Allison at whatever position he wanted if he’d let me try my luck as a junior agent. And then Chris assigned me you.”

Stiles cringed again. “And I’m fucking it up for you, aren’t I?”

Derek chuckled. “Kind of, yeah. Hence the reason I’m here, lighting a fire under your ass.”

Stiles raised his hands above his head. “Ok, I get the point. Consider the fires adequately lit. I’ll write you as many pages as I can tonight, but I have to study for my final and work tomorrow, so I may not get anything written. After that, school’s over, so I’m all yours.” Stiles walked past Derek back into the living room. “I’ll be a writing machine. _Machine,_ I tell you!” 

Derek laughed. “I like your enthusiasm. But if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to sit here for a while and make sure you’re writing what you’re supposed to.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, then knock yourself out.” Stiles pointed to the couch. “Mi casa es su casa.” 

Stiles looked back toward the living room on his way to his bedroom. Derek Hale was on his couch. Stiles tried not to think about how much he liked that idea.

*

“Ta dah!” Stiles held a stack of pages in front of Derek’s face. “Here you go. Fifteen pages just for you.”

Derek reached up and grabbed the papers, flipping through them. “Well, wonders never cease.”

Stiles grinned as he flopped down beside Derek on the couch. “I told you I’d get it done. And it only took me three hours. I’m awesome! I just needed the proper motivation, I guess.” 

Derek smirked over at Stiles. “Are you saying that I motivated you to write?” 

“You do kind of remind me of Tulry.”

Derek raised an eye brow. “I remind you of an alien werewolf who is ruled by the moon?”

“Well, you do have an aversion to happiness.” Stiles grinned when Derek rolled his eyes. “And you are covered in enough sexy, rough stubble to attract all the women and men of Haldor.”

Derek leaned near Stiles, hovering close to him. “Did you just call me sexy, Stilinski?” 

“Maybe.” Stiles felt Derek’s breath across his face, the heat of his skin. He just needed to close those last few inches between him and Derek’s soft, slightly chapped lips would be on his, stubble rubbing against his cheek. He could see Derek nosing closer slowly, Stiles matching his movement. Stiles closed his eyes and – 

“Stiles, man, I brought pizz– oh.” Stiles jumped back from Derek, turning toward Scott. 

“Scott, hey.” Stiles stood up. “Pizza, huh? That’s awesome. You better not have got anchovies.” Stiles could feel the blush heating his skin as he made his way across the living room. He turned back to look at Derek, slight red tint visible on his cheeks as well. “Scott, this is Derek. Derek, my roommate Scott.” 

Scott waved as Derek nodded. 

Stiles grabbed the pizza box from Scott. “Hey, Derek, want some pizza?”

Derek stood up and grabbed his coat. “No, thanks. I need to get going now that I’ve got some pages to read.” He held up the stack. “I expect more pages after your test is done. Don’t make me come pester you again. You’ve only got ten days to finish this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. You’ll get them, you slave driver.” Stiles winked at Derek. He noticed a little tension ease out of his shoulders as he opened the door.

*

“I just got home, Derek, you can’t expect me to have written anything yet.” Stiles held open the door, staring at Derek in the doorway, exasperated. 

Derek grinned. 

Stiles’ heart leapt. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Derek since their almost kiss two days before. He had had to jack off three times just to get his studying done. And having Derek in front of him in jeans and a tight gray t-shirt right now made him want to do it again. 

“I come in peace. And with good news.” He held up his hands, dangling a plastic bag in front of him. “But first, I noticed you focus better when you have food, so I decided to bring nourishment.” 

Stiles grinned. “Yes, Chinese. And from Mandarin Palace. My favorite.” Stiles smiled giddily.

Derek laughed. “Mine, too.”

Stiles closed the door as Derek walked farther into the apartment. “You can just sit down on the couch. I’ll get us some drinks. Beer?”

Derek nodded. “That’d be great.” 

Stiles walked into the kitchen, trying not to read too much into the situation. He had wanted to invite Derek back over, but didn’t know how to broach the topic. Every time he picked up the phone to call him, he chickened out. But now he was in his living room. On his couch.

Stiles walked back into the living room after he grabbed their beers. “You said you had good news?” 

Derek nodded as he took the boxes out of the bags, spreading them across the table. “I do, but it can wait until after we eat. Lo mein is never any good cold.”

“Speak for yourself. I’ve always loved cold Chinese.”

*

Stiles leaned back, clutching his stomach. “I can’t believe we ate all of that.”

Derek chuckled. “Me either. I’m going to have to run a hundred extra miles just to burn it all off.”

Stiles laughed. “Oh give me a break, Derek. I may have never seen them, but from what I can tell, you could cut glass on your abs, so don’t even start with me.”

Derek’s ears turned pink as he rolled his eyes. “I’d prefer you didn’t try, thanks.” 

Stiles giggled. “Are you embarrassed, Derek?”

Derek shoved Stiles. “Shut up.”

Stiles drained his beer and turned to Derek. “So what is this good news?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Eager, aren’t you?”

Stiles just nodded.

Derek grinned. “I bet you were that kid on Christmas morning who woke their parents up at dawn just to see what Santa brought, weren’t you?”

Stiles smiled. “Try three am. But don’t try and change the subject. What’s the news?”

“Ok, ok. After I had to come out here the other day, I realized that I might need some kind of motivation to get you to finish the Cariggan series. So, I talked to Peter and Morell over at EDGE, and they agreed to read your manuscript for _Scarlet Descent_ if you finish the second Cariggan book on time.”

Stiles jumped off the couch. “Are you kidding me, Derek? This is great! How could you let me sit here eating Chinese with awesome news like that?”

Derek smiled at him, obviously amused at his flailing. “I knew you’d react like this, and I really didn’t want greasy noodles ruining my favorite pants.”

Stiles ignored Derek, dancing a little jig around the living room. His other book might get published. He might end up with multiple series published. He was over the moon. Derek had believed in him enough to do this for him. “Dude, Derek, why did you do this? You totally didn’t have to.”

“I would really like to keep my new position, and getting you another series deal will help that happen.” Derek’s eyes darted towards the ceiling, avoiding Stiles’ eyes. “I also think you’re really talented.”

Stiles couldn’t help himself as he strode across the living room; he had to kiss Derek right then. Stiles climbed into Derek’s lap, placing his hands on the sides of his neck and legs on either side of Derek’s hips. He waited a moment, hovering above Derek’s lips in case he wanted to pull away. Instead, Derek surged forward, lips crashing against Stiles’. Stiles groaned, relishing the feel of Derek’s lips on his, of his stubble beneath his fingers. It was just as good as he thought it would be.

Derek’s hand snaked around Stiles’ neck, pulling him closer as his tongue ran along Stiles’ bottom lip. 

“Fuck, Derek, you feel so good,” Stiles panted against Derek’s lips when he pulled back for air.

Derek ran his nose down Stiles’ neck, gently kissing the tendon before biting down on the cord of muscle. “So beautiful.”

Stiles drew in a breath, trying not to rut against Derek. He was starting to strain against his pants, the taste of Derek on his tongue driving him wild. 

Derek ran his hand down Stiles’ side as he kissed Stiles again, sliding his hand under the hem of his shirt. 

Stiles groaned, rolling his hips against Derek, feeling his erection under his jeans. 

“Stiles,” Derek gasped against his lips. He reached for the bottom of Stiles’ shirt, pulling it off over his head. 

Stiles felt the cold air of the apartment hit his heated skin, making goose bumps break out across his skin. He sighed as Derek’s fingers chased them down his back, kissing across his collar bone. He nipped along the bone, soothing his tongue along the abused skin. Stiles shivered at the sensations Derek’s mouth was causing all over his body. He felt like a horny teenager on a first date. It wasn’t like he’d had tons of sex partners, but he wasn’t new to this. Derek made him feel like he hadn’t in years. 

Stiles’ hands scrambled to reach the hem of Derek’s shirt. He needed to feel Derek’s chest against his or he might explode. He leaned back and pulled it over Derek’s head, pausing to enjoy how beautiful Derek was. 

“Fuck, Derek. You’re gorgeous.” Stiles ran his hands across the planes of his stomach, watching the muscles quiver under his hands. “Are you ticklish?” Stiles looked up at Derek in question. His cheeks were flushed, eyes blown wide and mouth glistening. 

Derek nodded.

Stiles smiled. “I’ll have to remember that.” Stiles leaned down, kissing Derek slowly, enjoying the feel of his lips. He could kiss Derek for hours. 

But their kisses soon turned heated once more, Derek gripping Stiles’ hips and thrusting up to meet him. Derek ran a hand down Stiles’ chest, running his hands under the waist band of his jeans. “Can I?” 

“Oh fuck yes.” 

Derek flicked the button open, pulling the zipper down. He massaged Stiles through his boxers a few moments, then slipped his hand under the band to grip his cock, pushing his pants down enough to free his erection. 

Stiles threw his head back and bit his lip. He tried to focus on something besides the way Derek’s slightly rough skin felt rubbing against his cock. He was dangerously close to coming already. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes. He locked eyes with Derek, staring at him as Derek slowly jacked him off. 

Never breaking eye contact, Stiles unbuttoned Derek’s jeans, slipping them down enough to pull out Derek’s cock and slowly circling it with his fingers. Derek’s cock felt amazing in his hand, hot flesh sliding softly against his palm. Derek gasped, stopping his ministrations and throwing his head back. Stiles kissed along his neck, worrying the flesh between his teeth. 

Derek took a deep breath and started moving his hand again, Stiles’ nerves on edge. He sped up his hand on Derek’s cock, precome easing the slide. He ran his thumb under the head, slowly running his finger across the slit. 

“Fuck, Stiles, I’m close,” Derek panted against his neck, other hand gripping his side. His nails were digging into his flesh, the spark of pain sending Stiles closer to completion.

“Me too.” 

Derek sped his hand up, twisting his hand in a way that drove Stiles crazy. He was so close, feeling his orgasm rising low in his belly. With one final twirl around the head, Stiles felt Derek go rigid, coming across Stiles’ hand and both their jeans. Derek’s hand gripped Stiles tightly, being just enough to push him over the edge. 

Stiles clung to Derek, trying to get his breath back. 

Derek’s finger ran slow circles on his hip, lulling Stiles into a doze. The feel of Derek’s lips against his neck roused him from his stupor. 

“That was amazing,” Derek said, kissing up his neck to his lips. 

Stiles leaned into the kiss, enjoying the slow slide of their lips now that the frenzy was gone. 

“Yes, it was.” Stiles looked down at their laps, both their jeans covered in their collective come. “Looks like your jeans got messy after all.” Stiles laughed as Derek threw him on his back on the couch. 

“I’ll show you messy.” 

*

“Done! Yes!” Stiles ran out of his room. “Scott, Derek, I’m done! I just finished the epilogue. I’m officially done with _Smoldering Moon_!” Stiles danced around the living room.

“Alright, Stiles. You go, bro!” Scott stood up, giving Stiles a high five. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, buddy. And I couldn’t have done it without my wonderful best friend.” 

Derek cleared his throat. 

“And my wonderful agent, of course. If it wasn’t for you, I might not have gotten this done.” 

“Damn right.” Derek smirked. “And now comes the fun part.” He held out a thick stack of pages. “Revision.” 

Stiles groaned. “I just finished. The last few chapters haven’t even finished printing. Can’t I have a little break? Please?” Stiles pouted, bottom lip stuck out.

Derek dropped the manuscript on the coffee table and put his arms around Stiles, bringing him closer. He nipped Stiles’ bottom lip, pulling him into a deep kiss. “Congratulations, Stiles.”

Stiles beamed at him. “Thanks.”

Scott made a gagging noise in the background. “Dude, come on! I’m right here.” 

Stiles shot Scott a bird, never turning from Derek. “Fuck you, Scott. This is nothing compared to what I’ve walked in on you and Lydia doing.” 

“Touché, dude, touché.” 

Stiles laughed as he kissed Derek again, wrapping his arms around his neck. Scott could get over it. He just finished his novel and he wanted to make out with his boyfriend. 

* 

“Thanks for watching this with me, Derek. It really is helping keep my mind off everything.” Stiles had been snuggling next to Derek on the couch all night watching _Star Trek_. His book was about to be published. After more than a year of waiting and writing, it was finally going to happen. He and Derek had spent the weeks after he completed his manuscript revising and having sex all over his and Derek’s apartments. EDGE had loved both books and, given that they had been working with Stiles for over a year, it didn’t take very long at all for them to get it all ready for publishing. And it was being published tomorrow. 

After Derek watched Stiles pace across his living room for forty five minutes that afternoon, he grabbed him, blew him on the couch, and agreed to watch whatever he wanted if he’d just calm down. “So many people prefer Next Gen, but it’s the original series, all the way.” Stiles got up from the couch, changing out the DVD. “I grew up watching this show. I always had a crush on Spock and Nurse Chapel.”

“Science Blue, huh?” Derek looked over at Stiles, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I should buy a uniform and punish you for cheating on the kobayashi maru.”

Fuck, just the thought of Derek in a science uniform made Stiles warm all over. Stiles jumped back onto Derek’s couch, crushing their mouths together. Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek’s head, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair and pulling him closer. 

Derek pulled away, gasping for air while Stiles ran his lips over Derek’s exposed neck. He’d never get tired of the way the stubble felt under his lips. “Stiles, what’s gotten into you?” Derek’s breath caught as Stiles ran his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

Stiles pulled back to stare at Derek, lips slightly wet and panting. “You were talking about _Star Trek_.”

“What does that have to do with you mauling me?” 

“You usually talk books or foreign films or something. But you were talking _geek_.” Stiles’ cheeks were tinged with pink.

“You think it’s sexy? You like that I can be geeky, too?” Derek chuckled as Stiles turned even redder. “So you like geek speak. Ok.” Derek deepened his voice, trying to sound seductive. “Quantum physics. Relativity. Phasers and lightsabers.”

Stiles started laughing and Derek smiled over at him. “What? Those are geek phrases, right?” 

Stiles giggled again, pushing Derek on his back against the cushions. “Not exactly what gets me going, Derek, but I appreciate the effort.”

“Oh, is that so, I’ll show you – “ 

Stiles caught Derek’s lips in a kiss, cutting off his sentence. 

“Just shut up, Derek.” Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips. Stiles traced Derek’s lips with his tongue, feeling his slightly ragged breath against his face. 

“Whatever you say, Captain Stilinski.”

Stiles moaned and pushed his lips back against Derek’s. Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ head, pulling his face closer, deepening the kiss and bringing Stiles’ body flush with his. Stiles moaned at the full body contact, relishing in the feel of Derek’s strong thighs between his legs. Stiles trailed kisses down Derek’s neck, pushing his hands under Derek’s shirt. Pulling back, Stiles dragged Derek’s shirt over his head and threw it behind the couch. Leaning back down, Stiles took one of Derek’s nipples into his mouth, grazing his teeth slightly against the bud. Derek gasped at the pressure, gripping one hand in Stiles’ hair and the other over the arm of the couch. Stiles moved across Derek’s chest, giving the other nipple the same treatment.

Moving his hand and lips down Derek’s torso, Stiles kissed and touched along Derek’s sides and down to the waistband of his track pants. Stiles hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled Derek’s pants and boxers down his hips, freeing his erection. Leaning back, Stiles pulled Derek’s pants all the way off. 

Derek ran his bare feet along Stiles’ side and underneath his shirt. “You have on too many clothes now, Stiles. I think this should come off now.” 

Stiles smiled and pulled his shirt over his head. Shifting down the couch, Stiles ran his hand up Derek’s legs. Leaning down, Stiles gently ran his fingertip up the underside of Derek’s cock. Derek gasped and threw both hands above his head, gripping the arm of the couch. Smiling, Stiles leaned down and ran his tongue over the same line his finger just traveled. 

“Stiles…” Derek moaned, hooded eyes staring down at Stiles between his legs. Not breaking eye contact, Stiles gripped Derek’s cock and slowly licked the head, swirling his tongue around the end. Derek’s eyes drifted closed. 

“Derek, look at me. I want you to watch me.” Derek groaned but obeyed, opening his eyes to stare back down at Stiles. Stiles took the tip of Derek’s cock in his mouth and slowly slid the length into his mouth, lips finally touching where his fingers were wrapped around the base. Derek’s fingers gripped the arm of the couch harder, knuckles turning white. 

Stiles began to bob his head, sucking as he moved up and licking as he moved down. The other hand reached down to play with Derek’s balls, slowly massaging them between his fingers. Derek’s eyes closed slightly, but still stayed open. Stiles could tell that Derek wanted to lose himself in the sensations, but he knew how much the sight of Stiles with his cock in his mouth drove Derek crazy. Stiles’ slightly flushed face, glistening lips stretched over his shaft, smoldering look. Derek ran his hand through Stiles’ hair and pulled him up.

“Stiles, stop.” Derek pulled Stiles up the couch to kiss him. “As much as I was enjoying that, I want to come with you inside me.” 

Stiles moaned against Derek’s lips and kissed him harder. “Fuck Derek, warn a guy when you’re going to say things like that.” 

Derek laughed. “Now where would the fun be in that?” Derek ran his hand through Stiles’ hair and pulled him in for another searing kiss. 

“Lube and condoms in the side table.” Derek gasped against Stiles’ lips when he moved his clothed crotch over his sensitive erection. 

“Prepared, were we?” Stiles smirked at Derek, seeing a flush rise over his cheek.

“Best to be prepared, right?” 

Plunging back in for another kiss, Stiles reached above his head to open the drawer on the table beside the couch. After rummaging around for a second, he pulled out a bottle of lube and condom. 

“Turn over.” Stiles nudged Derek’s hip with his knee, moving back as Derek complied. On his knees, Derek leaned forward, placed his hand against the arm of the couch, and spread his legs. 

“Fuck Derek, you have no idea how sexy you look right now.” Stiles closed the distance between them, kneeling behind him, and kissed across Derek’s shoulders and back, twirling his tongue along the outline of his tattoo. Pulling back, Stiles opened the bottle of lube and squirted some on his fingers, rubbing it between them to warm it up. Placing his right hand on Derek’s back, Stiles slowly ran a finger down to Derek’s opening. Swirling his finger around Derek’s entrance, Stiles slowly slipped a finger inside.

“Fuck, Stiles.” Derek groaned, moving his hips back to push him in deeper. 

“Easy Derek. We’ll get there.” Stiles laughed and moved his finger in and out a few times. Satisfied, Stiles pulled out and then stuck two fingers back in. 

“Yeess.” Derek dropped his head between his shoulders, breath coming faster now. Stiles worked another finger into Derek, making sure he was ready. Stiles kissed Derek’s back when he whimpered at the loss of Stiles’ fingers. 

“Don’t worry, Derek. I’m not done with you yet.” Stiles stood up and shoved his pants down and off. Crawling back on the couch, Stiles unwrapped the condom and slid it on his cock. He grabbed the lube from where he’d dropped in on the couch cushion and squirted some more on his hand, rubbing it over his cock. Leaning closer to Derek, Stiles positioned his cock at Derek’s entrance and slowly slid inside. 

“Uhf, fuck, Stiles.” One of Derek’s hands flew around to grab at Stiles’ hip, fingernails digging into his skin. “You feel so good.” 

Stiles kissed the back of Derek’s neck as he slowly began moving, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Leaning down, Stiles traced the edges of Derek’s tattoo with his lips again, enjoying the way Derek shuddered at the added sensation. Grasping Derek’s hips, Stiles established a slow rhythm. Hoping to encourage Stiles to move faster, Derek began thrusting with Stiles. 

“Faster, please, Stiles, you’re driving me crazy.” 

Stiles moved faster as he leaned over to whisper in Derek’s ear. “You really shouldn’t say ‘Stiles’ like that, Derek.” Derek gasped as Stiles thrust deeper from his new angle. “I will _never_ get any writing done. All I’ll be able to think about when we’re editing is the sound of you saying my name as I thrust inside you.”

Derek groaned and turned his head to capture Stiles’ lips in a frantic kiss. Pulling away slightly, Derek smiled against Stiles’ lips. 

“Stiles.” 

Stiles growled and started pounding into Derek, who had to brace both his arms against the couch to keep from falling. 

“Yes. Oh fuck, Stiles, yes. Yes.” Derek moved one of his hands off the couch, making sure his other was firmly in place, and finally touched his cock. Derek groaned.

“No, let me.” Stiles rose up and pulled Derek flush against him, swatting his hand away from his cock and pulling it toward Stiles’ hair. Stiles then rubbed his hand down Derek’s stomach and finally took his cock in his hand, jerking it in counter point to his thrusts. 

“Fuck, Stiles. Yes.” Derek grasped Stiles’ hair tighter, pulling his head around to kiss him over his shoulder. The kiss was frantic and messy and they were really just touching lips and sharing breaths, but it was exquisite. Derek felt amazing around Stiles, body tight and slick against his skin. Derek’s cock slipped easily between Stiles’ fingers, creating a continuous loop of sensation for him and Derek. 

“Derek, I’m almost there. I want to feel you come around me. Are you close?” Stiles started pumping Derek’s cock even faster, losing a little bit of his rhythm in his frenzy. 

“Yes, almost there. Stiles, yes. Fuck. Just… yes.” Derek moaned as Stiles felt his body tighten. Derek moaned louder, spilling over Stiles’ hand. 

“Derek, so tight. Fuck.” Stiles thrust into Derek a few more times before he fell over the edge. As his body relaxed, Stiles fell back, pulling Derek with him. 

Finally rousing from his post orgasmic haze a few minutes later, Derek peeked over his shoulder to see Stiles with his head back against the couch arm, eyes still closed. 

“Still with me there, Stiles?” Derek gently ran his hands through Stiles’ hair as he opened his eyes.

“Still here. Just enjoying the afterglow.” Stiles leaned into Derek’s caress. “Might want to get up though. This angle is not the best on my legs.” Stiles giggled as Derek slowly got up and groaned as Stiles slipped out of him. 

“I think we got come all over your couch cushions again. We really should stop having sex on your couch.” Stiles laughed as he gently pulled Derek up off the couch and put his arms around his waist. 

“I’m the literary agent for the next up and coming sci-fi novelist. I think I can afford upholstery cleaner.” Derek chuckled and kissed Stiles. “Though we should try to make it to my bed more often.”

Stiles nodded, nuzzling Derek’s neck. “We really should. It’s such a nice bed.” Stiles kissed Derek’s neck, feeling him shiver. 

“It is.” Derek ran his hand over Stiles’ cheek, pulling his lips to his. Derek kissed Stiles deeply, then leaned back, resting their foreheads together. “Are you nervous about your book coming out tomorrow?” Derek asked.

“I had gone all night without thinking about it and then you bring it up.” Stiles sighed and leaned back, looking at Derek. “I am excited, but I’m also super nervous that no one will buy it. I just want to write all the time and get paid for it.” 

Derek pulled Stiles closer. “You’re a fabulous writer. People will love your book and you will get paid. I’ll bet my job on that.” 

Stiles laughed, feeling some tension ease out of his shoulders that had cropped up when his book was mentioned. “Well, since I’m one of your biggest clients, you kind of have.”

“Well, at least you aren’t my only client anymore.” Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand, pulling him toward the back of the apartment. 

Stiles let Derek pull him. “What are you doing?” 

Derek turned around and smiled at him. “We’re getting cleaned up. Then I’m making you some hot chocolate. And we’re going to eat cookies and watch some more _Star Trek_.”

“That sounds awesome.” Stiles pulled Derek toward him, kissing him once more before letting him go. 

*

Stiles wouldn’t be a millionaire, but _Frozen Sun_ got a few rave reviews in really respected sci-fi and fantasy publications and it had really good sales.

EDGE gave Stiles a bonus for how well his book sold. He wouldn’t be able to live on it alone just yet, but it was a great start. 

He was going to finish college. Hell, he was only a semester away from graduation anyway. But it looked like his dreams had come true. 

He was a writer. 

*

**Epilogue**

“Ok, before you say anything, I know I promised you my manuscript yesterday, but I swear, I had this other idea for the next part of the Cariggan Series and I just… well, I’ve spent the last three days writing that instead.” Stiles took a deep breath. “Are you going to kill me?” 

Derek sighed into the phone and scrubbed his hand over his face. He always went through this with Stiles when there was a deadline. No matter how many times they had gone through this, and they had with _all_ of Stiles’ previous books, he always had to threaten him to ensure he’d get his work done. “You know you have to finish _The Crimson Ascent_ first. The publisher’s already put out the teaser campaign for it. To meet the publishing deadline, you have to have it to me by tomorrow or the copy editor will have my balls. And you know what that means, don’t you, Stiles?”

Stiles pushed out an exacerbated breath. “You’ll rip off _my_ balls.” Stiles paused, huffing into the phone. “You are such a fucking slave driver, Derek. I mean, none of my writer friends have to put up with their agents threatening them. I mean, is that even legal? Was there a line in my contract that I somehow missed where –“

“Stiles, your only writer friend is Boyd, and he writes the sports column for the LA Times. He doesn’t even have an agent.” 

“He has an editor. And Kali can be a tyrant when she wants to be. You should have seen how pissed she got when he printed the wrong score for the LA Galaxy game last month. Boyd came to the coffee house looking as if he’d – “

“Stiles,” Derek huffed.

Derek heard Stiles shift, the rustling of papers crackling over the line. “Fine, you win. I just have one more chapter to write and it will be in your inbox.”

“I’m not falling for that one again. Have it on my desk by 5 tomorrow or I’ll be forced to come out to your ridiculously decorated apartment and forcibly make you write.”

Stiles sighed. “I’ll have it on your desk by 4, just to show you how awesome I can be. No need to threaten bodily harm.” 

“You better.” 

Derek ended the call, throwing his phone on the desk. Knowing Stiles, he’d probably end up out at his apartment at some point tomorrow, but he’d figure that out later. 

*

Derek looked up from his computer screen when his door opened. Stiles sauntered across the office and threw a huge manuscript down on his desk. Instead of picking up the papers, Derek looked at his watch. “4:30. Nice. Only a half hour after you promised it to me.” Derek leaned back in his chair and grabbed the stack.

“But half an hour before _you_ said you needed it.” Stiles’ arms flailed around as he walked over to the desk. “Ok, so I totally had that done way early this morning, but then I fell asleep and then I got stuck on the 101 on my way here and almost ran out of gas. So really, I was ahead of schedule, but due to unfortunate events, you just didn’t get it.” Stiles leaned against the side of the desk, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

Derek flipped past the first few pages. “Well, good thing I’m good at lying to you.” 

Stiles pushed off from the side of the desk, pointing his finger at Derek. “What do you mean, lying to me?”

Derek smirked smugly. “I told you it was due two days ago. It isn’t due until next week.”

“What the fuck do you mean, it isn’t due for a week?” Stiles shrieked, flinging his arms up into the air. “I stayed up all night finishing that fucking thing and rereading it! You ass!” Stiles wacked Derek on the shoulder. Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist, pulling him close. 

“You like my ass. Even when I force you to finish your manuscripts.” Derek rubbed his thumb over Stiles’ skin, feeling his pulse thump steadily beneath his finger.

“Yeah, I do like your ass.” Stiles leaned down, stopping close to Derek’s mouth. “Who knew when I signed my book deal that I’d end up with some rookie agent trying to prove himself? Good thing I’m such a good client.” 

Derek shook his head and laughed. “Good client? You? If you define good client as someone who almost lost their contract because they wrote a different book than the one they were signed to write, then yeah, you’re a good client.”

Stiles pecked Derek on the lips. “Good thing you’re a good agent and got them to sign on for that book as well.”

Derek smiled. “It would have been my ass too, so really, I did it for me.” 

Stiles laughed. “Just for you, huh? Well, good thing I like selfish assholes.” Stiles leaned over Derek and straddled his lap.

Derek brought his hands up, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “Well, good thing I like frantic sci-fi writers.”

Stiles laughed and closed the distance between their lips.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: Missed Deadlines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088172) by [mithborien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithborien/pseuds/mithborien)




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